out a cry of frustration and glanced at her husband, who was still hanging out the service window, looking worried. He offered nothing.
“This is my truck,” Rosa declared. “I make the rules. No beef jerky! No jerky of any kind.”
Ida sputtered defiantly. “And this is my parking lot,” she countered.
Uh-oh , Jackie thought. This was heading in a bad direction. She started toward them.
“No jerky,” Ida proclaimed, “no taco truck on my property.”
“Mom,” Ben protested, “we’ve been parking here every Saturday for three years.”
“Taco truck?” Rosa looked like she was about to blow. Her eyes bulged out and her lips were set into a thin, hard line. “Does this look like a taco truck to you? Do you see a taco anywhere?”
“Move it!” Ida ordered.
“Mom, calm down,” Ben suggested gently.
“Me? You tell your wife to calm down. All I’m asking is that you put your mother’s little jar of jerky right here.” She reached up and put the jar on the ledge again.
Just as Rosa moved to knock it off, Jackie interceded and grabbed it. “Maybe you should go back in the shop, Mom,” she suggested.
“I’m not budging until these people move their truck off my property.”
“Fine!” Rosa proclaimed, then stomped around to the cab of the truck and started the engine.
Hanging out the window, Ben threw up his hands, looking distraught and apologetic as the truck tore out of the parking lot, flinging up gravel.
Ida’s look of defiance remained intact as the truck headed down the highway into town. She turned to Jackie and said, “And you aren’t allowed to eat at that taco truck anymore!”
Jackie opened her mouth to argue, but thought the better of it.
Ida pulled the jerky jar roughly from her hands, then marched into the bait shop, the little pelvic bones on her rear end swishing fiercely to and fro.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Captain Shoemaker wants to see you Monday, Byers,” Sergeant Miller told Stef over the phone. “Nine a.m. sharp.”
There was nothing in his voice to tell her whether this was good or bad news.
“What’s it about?” she asked, though she was positive she knew.
“IA has finished their investigation,” he reported.
“And?” she prompted.
“That’s what the captain wants to talk to you about. See you Monday.”
After he hung up, Stef called her mother. As the phone rang, Deuce tramped in, head hanging down, his gloomy, bandaged face peering out from a white cone. He couldn’t have looked more dejected. After having discovered that normal movement around the house was dangerous because the cone kept banging into things, he now walked plodding and tentatively everywhere he went. Both of them couldn’t wait for the day they could remove what Deuce most certainly thought of as a punishment.
When her mother answered the phone, she explained about her Monday morning appointment.
“Okay if I spend the night Sunday?” she asked.
“Of course,” her mother replied. “I can make lasagna.”
“You know I love your lasagna.”
“Are you nervous, Stephanie? What do you think they’re going to say?”
“I’m expecting to be exonerated. I can’t think of any reason I wouldn’t be. It was obviously an accident.”
“No, I’m sure you will be. I don’t even see why they had to go through all this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It’s routine, Mom. Anytime an officer shoots a firearm, there’s an investigation. In this case, a man was killed. Two men were killed. Very serious.”
“Yes, it was very serious. I know, but why do they treat you like a criminal? Interrogating you. Putting you on suspension.”
“It’s not suspension. It’s paid administrative leave. And nobody’s treating me like a criminal. It’s just routine.”
“I’ll be so glad when this nightmare is over and things get back to normal. You can get back to work, get on with your life. I know you’ll feel so much better when you’re back on the job and not
“This is my truck,” Rosa declared. “I make the rules. No beef jerky! No jerky of any kind.”
Ida sputtered defiantly. “And this is my parking lot,” she countered.
Uh-oh , Jackie thought. This was heading in a bad direction. She started toward them.
“No jerky,” Ida proclaimed, “no taco truck on my property.”
“Mom,” Ben protested, “we’ve been parking here every Saturday for three years.”
“Taco truck?” Rosa looked like she was about to blow. Her eyes bulged out and her lips were set into a thin, hard line. “Does this look like a taco truck to you? Do you see a taco anywhere?”
“Move it!” Ida ordered.
“Mom, calm down,” Ben suggested gently.
“Me? You tell your wife to calm down. All I’m asking is that you put your mother’s little jar of jerky right here.” She reached up and put the jar on the ledge again.
Just as Rosa moved to knock it off, Jackie interceded and grabbed it. “Maybe you should go back in the shop, Mom,” she suggested.
“I’m not budging until these people move their truck off my property.”
“Fine!” Rosa proclaimed, then stomped around to the cab of the truck and started the engine.
Hanging out the window, Ben threw up his hands, looking distraught and apologetic as the truck tore out of the parking lot, flinging up gravel.
Ida’s look of defiance remained intact as the truck headed down the highway into town. She turned to Jackie and said, “And you aren’t allowed to eat at that taco truck anymore!”
Jackie opened her mouth to argue, but thought the better of it.
Ida pulled the jerky jar roughly from her hands, then marched into the bait shop, the little pelvic bones on her rear end swishing fiercely to and fro.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Captain Shoemaker wants to see you Monday, Byers,” Sergeant Miller told Stef over the phone. “Nine a.m. sharp.”
There was nothing in his voice to tell her whether this was good or bad news.
“What’s it about?” she asked, though she was positive she knew.
“IA has finished their investigation,” he reported.
“And?” she prompted.
“That’s what the captain wants to talk to you about. See you Monday.”
After he hung up, Stef called her mother. As the phone rang, Deuce tramped in, head hanging down, his gloomy, bandaged face peering out from a white cone. He couldn’t have looked more dejected. After having discovered that normal movement around the house was dangerous because the cone kept banging into things, he now walked plodding and tentatively everywhere he went. Both of them couldn’t wait for the day they could remove what Deuce most certainly thought of as a punishment.
When her mother answered the phone, she explained about her Monday morning appointment.
“Okay if I spend the night Sunday?” she asked.
“Of course,” her mother replied. “I can make lasagna.”
“You know I love your lasagna.”
“Are you nervous, Stephanie? What do you think they’re going to say?”
“I’m expecting to be exonerated. I can’t think of any reason I wouldn’t be. It was obviously an accident.”
“No, I’m sure you will be. I don’t even see why they had to go through all this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It’s routine, Mom. Anytime an officer shoots a firearm, there’s an investigation. In this case, a man was killed. Two men were killed. Very serious.”
“Yes, it was very serious. I know, but why do they treat you like a criminal? Interrogating you. Putting you on suspension.”
“It’s not suspension. It’s paid administrative leave. And nobody’s treating me like a criminal. It’s just routine.”
“I’ll be so glad when this nightmare is over and things get back to normal. You can get back to work, get on with your life. I know you’ll feel so much better when you’re back on the job and not
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